The sounds of crackling and popping came from all around.
Every breath was filled with scorching air.
Flames blazed everywhere, and above their heads, the steel wire net seemed ready to collapse. Once the tree trunks were devoured by the wildfire, the iron net would still continue to fall.
And it seemed they still had no way to avoid it.
Catalina looked toward the young man beside her.
His face, lit by the firelight, remained calm and composed. His silver-white pupils twinkled with a faint light, but they were also devoid of emotion, tranquil like a cold and bone-chilling deep pool.
It seemed no matter what, one could never see him panic, so calm he appeared almost like a mindless puppet.
Hasn't the situation already become almost hopeless?
Why is he still so composed?
Even if he does have some sort of ace up his sleeve, would it hurt to show just a little surprise or confusion?
Catalina stared at him, puzzled, for quite a while.
